


Let it hurt till it stops

by sleepy_spook



Category: Ben 10 Series
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of canon character death, mentions of depression and anxiety, the retcon didnt exist yet so devin absolutely does
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-19 06:56:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29870883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepy_spook/pseuds/sleepy_spook
Summary: (Set during 'Basic Training') Kevin knew a trip to the Plumber's Academy would mean opening some old wounds but he never realised quite how many until a familiar face catches his attention and refuses to let go.
Relationships: Devin Levin & Kevin Levin, Kevin Levin/Gwen Tennyson
Comments: 3
Kudos: 4





	Let it hurt till it stops

**Author's Note:**

> mental health has been crumbling recently so i took it out on kev and made him have an existential crisis in the middle of a corridor at 7am. sorry bud. this episode shouldve had way more references to Devin in it and i'll be forever mad about it. also idk why the spacing is huge im sorry :(

Ma had always said she saw a younger Devin when she looked at him. Kevin hadn’t wanted to believe it when he was small, he wanted to be told he looked like her because she was the parent he knew best, the parent who had stuck around and hadn’t left him. But looking up at the wall now there was never any point denying it; same eyes, same cheekbones, same stoic frown that could so easily melt into a smirk, even the same damn nose. 

Growing up Kevin couldn’t remember seeing any pictures at home of Devin from when he was a young man, only older ones from after he married Kevin’s mother and after he was born but they were never in view for very long; most were subjected to Harvey quietly turning them to the side whenever he was in the room. This hadn’t been a real issue until Kevin came home for good and then it reached its boiling point in the form of one too many snide comments, followed by an argument that lasted for hours with no one  _ really _ saying how they felt through fear of a repeated past and not wanting to hurt the woman they both cared deeply about.

Resentment was ugly and cold, it had once made its home so deep in Kevin’s heart and tangled and pulled the organ in so many directions he couldn’t remember how it had looked before. But he knew all too well the twisted snarl it painted over a face and saw it splashed in all colours across Harvey every time their eyes met. 

He didn’t care what Harvey thought of him, they hated each other now just as much as they had back then, maybe even more now that Kevin understood what those muttered words and side glances had meant. But Kevin loved his mother, more than Harvey ever could, and for her sake he wouldn’t ruin the small shred of happiness she’d built for herself after everything else had fallen apart.

It wasn’t what he wanted but the pictures confined to his mother’s dresser was what he begrudgingly agreed to, at least in there he could look at them whenever he wanted and Harvey had no say about it. Kevin had put his foot down about the one in the living room though, the one of his father and himself when he was small sitting in its frame on top of the fireplace, that one had to stay. Harvey would lose his hand if he tried to touch it and Kevin made sure the man knew that. 

Kevin couldn’t even begin to count the number of times he’d held those dresser photos in his hands, body shaking with muffled sobs as he tried not to think too hard about what life could have been like if his father was still around. It still hurt, all these years later and it hurt worse each morning than it had the day before. He’d been four maybe five years old, too young to properly understand why his father would never be coming home but the hole left by his absence had been painfully impossible to fill. 

He knew if it weren’t for the photos then he probably wouldn’t be able to so clearly remember what Devin’s face looked like, but he did remember and every time he looked in a mirror he could see his father staring back at him.

Would he be proud of him? Proud of  _ this  _ Kevin. Not the Kevin who hurt his friends, who hated the world and screamed his voice raw that everyone else was the problem, never  _ that  _ Kevin. 

_ This  _ Kevin, the Kevin that was trying desperately to make up for every past mistake and show everyone who’d ever doubted him that he’d changed for the better no matter how long it had taken him. The Kevin who had raised the memory of his father on such a high pedestal and was so scared they might never meet eyes again, that he might never become a person his father could be proud of and always have that shadow of his past looming over him. 

But he was still trying so damn hard every day. And despite every rebellious bone in his body screaming at him to tell that Plumber where he could shove his basic training, he had jumped at this opportunity to come to the Plumber’s Academy because he knew it was what his father would’ve done and he needed to follow in his footsteps. He needed to copy every move like he was a child again and Devin had left a trail in the snow with his boots for him to step in. The footprints were heavy and deep and sometimes too far apart for his little legs, so he’d had to take a jump at it and trust his father would catch him if he fell. 

It all still felt like one big jump, or maybe this was just the fall. Falling forever it seemed, never quite sure when he was going to land but dreading the impact all the same, no father to catch him anymore. He could get comfortable, complacent in this endless drop, as he strolled around with the Tennysons and jaggedly carved his way deeper into their lives. But he couldn’t lie to himself, couldn’t pretend this would be forever. 

He hadn’t meant to get so attached to them, to this life. But it made him feel good, helping people felt good no matter how much he whined and groaned about the late nights, about the dents and bruises to his body and car, it all felt good in a weird way. And there was something about doing it with  _ them  _ by his side that made it that much more bearable.

They had their hooks in him now, almost two years in and he was going  _ nowhere _ , and even if he did manage to rip himself away he knew he’d be back before the day was over because he couldn’t live without that part of himself, the part that they’d helped create. 

He wondered if his father had had friends like that, a group or even just a couple of people that made him feel safe and loved. People that made him feel like the fall was the easy part, that they’d be there to catch him when he finally did reach the bottom and would never let go. 

And Kevin knew he had to stop falling at some point, the ground would come at him faster than he could react and everything he’d worked so hard for would come to a screeching, bone-shattering halt. 

He’d thought he could see the bottom a few weeks ago, within touching distance maybe, as he’d looked down at that monstrous form and his desperate pleas for it  _ -him- _ to stop fell on deaf ears. Or maybe he had been heard, his cries possibly saving Gwen at the last second that one time, but by the end he knew there was no ounce of control left in that being to keep anyone safe.

He didn’t want to dwell on those memories for too long but the knowledge that  _ that  _ hadn’t been the end and was just another level further down shook him to his core. Everything was back to normal like nothing had ever happened but he was still falling, could still feel the lurching drop every time he closed his eyes. 

It kept him up at night, forcing him to stay awake and stare at the ceiling like that would delay the inevitable, like if he never slept it meant he wasn’t actually a day closer to whatever really waited for him at the bottom. 

Gwen hadn’t really understood but he hadn’t been fair to her, hadn’t even tried to explain it properly through fear of speaking his worst nightmares into existence, but he was grateful anyway when she stayed up with him on those bad nights just so he didn’t have to sit through them alone. Even when she couldn’t actually be there and he had to settle for the sound of her voice through the tinny speakers of his phone, it was enough, it was too much. 

He didn’t deserve their love, not in his eyes anyway; didn’t deserve Ben’s smiles or his shoulder to lean on when everything got too heavy, didn’t deserve Gwen’s sweet words or the heartbreaking feel of her hand in his as she told him they were in this together. Selfishly, he took it all anyway, every scrap of love and affection they had wrapped him in because he knew they meant it, knew that whatever they gave was his to keep. And he needed it all, even if he knew he didn’t deserve it and the guilt pulled him down further every day, he wouldn’t give any of it up without a fight.

The Tennysons had always been there to pull him out from that corner of his mind where everything was too loud and he wasn’t himself, wasn’t the Kevin his father would be proud of. He knew they could catch him, they’d proved that they could already. But he wondered how long that could last and if they would still  _ want _ to catch him, if they would still be waiting at the bottom no matter how fast he fell or how suddenly he needed them there. 

So if  _ that  _ hadn’t been the bottom, that meant something worse was down there, something that coiled in the deepest shadows waiting to greet Kevin with nothing but razor-sharp teeth when the day finally came. He didn’t want them down there for that, Gwen and Ben, didn’t want them to see whatever it was. He wasn’t able to protect them from every other horror he’d brought into their lives, but maybe he could keep them from enduring this one. 

So until he hit the ground, until he bowed out from their lives for the final time, he had to make things as good as possible, give himself something to find happiness in, something good to leave behind before his body caved in on itself. 

He would never say it out loud but somehow he knew his efforts wouldn’t be enough, deep  _ deep _ down near that corner where everything was too loud came a whisper that told him he wouldn’t even come close. 

But he could still try, could still look up at the glass-covered picture of his father and remember why he was doing this. 

The picture hung amongst a dozen others, their faces blurred and forgotten immediately in his mind but Devin’s was like a beacon that Kevin couldn’t pull away from even if he had wanted to. He had never seen this picture before, had never seen his father look so serious or so young, and it made his stomach twist in a way that was worse than painful. 

He could only see him from the shoulders up but from what he could tell Devin was wearing a standard Plumber uniform, dark hair cut impossibly short and mouth set in a grim line that Kevin wanted to believe had cracked immediately after the photo was taken.

Devin’s face in his younger years looked so much like his own, enough so that he’d had more than a few second glances from older Plumbers pretty much as soon as they’d docked at the academy; some with barely concealed shock like they were seeing a ghost, but most with uncertain hesitancy like they were waiting for him to lose control at any second and start destroying the place.

What did they really see when they looked at him? Were they scared of him? Did they pity him? Did they see Devin’s legacy and expect him to turn out exactly the same? Had he already failed to reach that point in their eyes?

Devin looked around his age, maybe a couple years older but no further than twenty, and Kevin vaguely registered that all the other individuals on the walls looked young as well, upsettingly young like these were their cadet photos taken days after they were officially made a part of the organisation. He could only assume it was supposed to be inspirational, something to remind new recruits that all the greatest Plumbers had started off at the same point as them and they should always aspire to be as good as them, all Kevin saw were children who’d had their futures taken away and didn’t know it yet.

It made him feel sick and he cursed under his breath more than once, Gwen’s hand on his shoulder tightening a little more each time.

Like the others, Devin’s photo was set beside a rectangular plaque, his name engraved into the metal followed by a lengthy list of missions and achievements the man had under his belt before his untimely death. Kevin didn’t want to let his eyes wander too far down that list, he knew what waited at the bottom, but he couldn’t help himself. 

_ Operation Helios _ .

He wasn’t aware it had been given a name, no one had told him and he’d never asked but it was Devin’s last mission so there was nothing else it could be. The man had given his life to save billions and only a handful of people would ever know or be grateful for it.

Devin Levin had gotten a picture and his name etched into a slice of metal, while a robotic message informed his wife and son that he had been killed and freezing condolences were their only comfort before they were promptly abandoned by the organisation and never contacted by them again. 

Old anger stirred in Kevin’s rib cage, coiling around each bone like a tendril of black malice and he could feel it pulling him down harder than ever before. They could have helped, they could have prevented so many years of pain and suffering; they knew Devin was Osmosian, they knew he had a child, they knew how hard Devin had to fight to keep his powers under control so why should the situation be any different for the son he had left behind. Kevin’s powers had started coming through far too early for them to claim ignorance, the likely bitter truth being they hadn’t wanted to waste the resources helping him with how uncontrollable his powers could be and preferred instead to leave him to fend for himself in the hopes that maybe they wouldn’t ever have to deal with him at all.

But he was here now, in all his distorted glory, and he wouldn’t let them ignore him this time.

It made his bones ache, made them feel heavy and useless like it would just be easier to let himself sink to the floor. Made him want to go home because he missed his mother and he missed the photos of his father in her dresser, the photos that were familiar to him, not like this stranger staring down at him.

Gwen’s touch kept him in the corridor, kept his feet on the ground instead of sinking right through it. Her fingers were holding on so tight already but he wanted to ask her for more, to go even further and find her way under his skin to the centre where she belonged. 

She already held his heart in her hands, cradled and cherished for the longest time, had slowly untangled every knot and tried her best to mould it back into shape even before he knew that was what he needed. And now he needed her again, needed her hands tighter than ever around his heart because he could feel the cracks starting to form. Needed her to help hold everything together because he wasn’t so sure he could right now. 

Maybe he was falling faster, maybe she was giving him more time, maybe all he wanted to do was put his fist through the glass and scream at the stranger who wore his father’s face.

He wouldn’t cry, not here in the corridor where Plumbers passed them by every second without even a glance at the poor excuse for a memorial hanging on the wall. He knew he would cry later, whether it would be into his fist as he made himself as small as possible curled up in an unfamiliar bed or tucked away in Gwen’s arms when they had a moment alone where he could let out every breath and every sob that threatened to rip him apart from the inside, he wasn’t sure when but he knew the tears would come. 

He didn’t have time for that now anyway, they were late for a training session he didn’t care about anymore but he knew it would’ve mattered to his father so he had to force himself to care as well. 

“Let’s go,” he said quietly, his body perfectly still save for the slow rise and fall of his chest. A year ago he would’ve been frantic, maybe stormed off down the corridor back to their barracks and punched a wall, thrown a few things around, anything to get the pain out the only way he knew how.

It was only those breathing exercises Gwen had drilled into him that kept his feet glued in place, his mind still reeling from the surprise of seeing his father’s face out of the corner of his eye and feeling powerless to do anything except stare but at least he could stop himself from having a panic attack at 7am. The seconds crawled across the floor, stretching themselves between him and the photos for what felt like years before Kevin remembered he could move again, ripping his gaze away from the wall and down to Gwen.

She took a little longer to meet his eyes and when she did he could see hers shimmered with unshed tears that she was barely keeping at bay. It was almost enough to crack him, almost enough to make him drop the barrier and become that eleven-year-old again crying over lost time.

A concerned frown marred her face as she looked up at him, eyes softening impossibly further, and he felt her touch leave his shoulder as she raised her hand to intercept the tears before they could fall down his own cheeks. 

“You look just like him,” she whispered, her voice sounding a million miles away.

Kevin couldn’t reply, hadn’t expected her to say something he already knew and for it to choke him up so badly. But he knew it was deeper than just a comment on his genetics, that she meant she could see the similarities in far more than just their faces.

He didn’t see himself as a hero, not like she did, not like how his father was. But begrudgingly he had to accept that he was one, despite only a handful of people knowing and most never needing to know as they showered Ben in praise and medals instead. But when Aggregor had been inches away from destroying everything Kevin was the only one left standing, the only one who could come even close to stopping him and hadn’t thought twice about doing the one thing he swore he never would again.

Kevin didn’t want the attention, didn’t want to be constantly reminded of the price he had paid for choosing to be a hero, he was content to just have his mind and his body and his friends back.

“Let’s go,” he said again, almost pleading this time, but still his feet didn’t move. He couldn’t bring himself to look at the photo again, could feel it staring down at him and burning a hole through his skull, but he knew if he looked again he’d break. 

Gwen was silent for a long moment, her eyes studying his face carefully as she tugged at her bottom lip with her teeth. Her gaze was tender but penetrating, emerald eyes shooting right down to his core where every stifled emotion scrambled to find a place to hide but he knew there was no point because she never missed a thing. He knew she would be here for him throughout all of this, that she loved him immensely even after everything they’d been through, how the hardships had only strengthened their bond and now they were practically in sync with each other. He knew she didn’t expect him to want to talk about it right now, because they both knew he wouldn’t be able to find the proper words anytime soon.

“We can come back later,” she said finally, voice low and only for him. “After dinner when it’s a little quieter, we can come back for however long you want. I’m sure they’d even let you take home a copy of it if we asked.” 

It was always ‘ _ we _ ’,  _ always _ , like she never wanted him to forget that she had his back and he didn’t have to do the hard stuff alone anymore. He wasn’t sure if she was even aware she did it but it meant more to him than she’d ever know.

He didn’t really want the picture, didn’t want a reminder of everything that he’d lost or that had been taken from him, but there was a part of him that knew he should take it home if only to give to his mother. Kevin felt something lodge itself in his throat, hard and rough and he couldn’t speak. He gave a short nod of his head in answer instead, tears prickling the corners of his eyes again.  _ Now _ it was time to go, Gwen was right they could come back later and he didn’t know how much longer he could keep his composure.

For a second he was scared his body was starting to betray him from all angles; his chest tightened and his legs awkwardly stuttered to the side as he attempted to move, the first step feeling heavy and unnatural like it was wrong for him to even try to leave.

Kevin took a deep breath, biting down hard on his tongue as he let himself look one last time at the photo on the wall, at his father’s face and every memory he was still desperately clinging to.

Gwen’s hand found his and she gave it a gentle squeeze, he returned the gesture half a second later and held onto her with everything he had.

His body still felt heavy, the twist of his stomach was gone but the urge to drop was still there and he knew that feeling would linger.

Turning away with a deep, shaky breath he ran his free hand down his face and swallowed hard. He could do this, it was just a few days and everything they were learning was stuff he’d become an expert at over the last year, nothing he didn’t already know. He could do this. 

He  _ needed _ to do this.

Gwen turned her head to look back at him, her eyes wet but bright and accompanied by a smile that told him he’d be ok and she would be there even if he wasn’t. He felt the pull as she began to walk down the corridor and couldn’t help but follow, her hand guiding the way and making the second step feel so much easier.

“Let’s go,” she said for him. 

~

**Author's Note:**

> the ending feels kinda bleh sorry. thank u for reading :)


End file.
